‘What’s wrong?’ Tossing the wet towel over his shoulder, he took her hands. ‘Can I do anything to help? Please.’
Sarah raised an eyebrow, unsure if she should have said anything at all. Seeing him standing there, wrapped in nothing but a robe, still wet from the shower, she knew she wouldn’t last much longer. ‘I need to have sex,’ she said matter-of-factly.
His eyes widened. ‘Sex?’
‘Yes. Sex. You said from day one that if I ever needed anything I only had to ask. Well, here I am, asking. I need to have sex.’ She flopped down on the end of the bed, not breaking eye contact with him.
‘I . . . wasn’t expecting . . . that.’ Somewhat relieved, he stifled a laugh and sat down beside her.
‘Neither was I. But here I am, with needs and wants and I can’t do anything about them.’
‘I know,’ he conceded, rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes and forehead, releasing some pent-up nerves. ‘I’m feeling it too.’
‘It’s been a while, Matthew, and I feel like I might explode.’
‘You’re telling me.’
‘How long has it been for you?’
He blushed. ‘Not saying.’
‘These past few days . . . The massage. That moment in the piazza.’ She dropped her face into her hands. ‘We are always so close. And you said all those lovely things about my body and—’
He scowled at himself. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘No. It was lovely to hear. But now . . . I just feel so on edge. How is it that we can fake intimacy so well, yet when the moment presents itself forus, in private, we come undone? My God, Matthew. That “almost kiss”, it’s been eating away at me. I hardly slept last night.’ He remained silent, shaking his head. ‘I don’t know what to do withthis,’ she gestured between them with both hands. ‘Does this arrangement extend to sexual favours? Or will it just complicate things?’
Don’t complicate things.Matthew let go of the sigh he had been unconsciously holding. ‘I don’t know, Sarah. I don’t have the answer. I wish I did.’
‘Well, either you and I have sex, or we turn a blind eye and allow each other the freedom to seek it elsewhere.’
He felt protective over Sarah, and suddenly the thought of her being physically intimate with someone else upset him greatly. His tone sharpened. ‘That’s not a good idea.’
‘I know that.’
Matthew stood up, retied the belt of his robe, and began pacing at the foot of the bed. ‘Sarah,’ he started, ‘I wouldloveto have sex with you. The thought has crossed my mind more times than I care to admit, but I’m just . . . it could . . .’
‘We are so beyond pleasantries and playing coy, Matthew. Just say it.’
She saw his jaw clench. ‘If it starts with sex, where will it end?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Can we separate sex from emotions?’
‘Emotions? Who said anything about emotions?’
He stood directly in front of her. ‘Sarah. We share a bed. A house. A life. We are forever within a metre of each other. What if this works? What if it feels good?’
‘What if it does? Shouldn’t we enjoy it? Don’t we owe it to ourselves?’ She shifted on the end of the bed, crossing her legs and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Her new position gave Matthew an unobstructed view down her flowy t-shirt, and his attention was immediately drawn to the delicious curves of her breasts, sitting full and plump in her white lacy bra.
Feeling a throb of yearning at his core, he pushed through. ‘I respect you too much to hurt you, Sarah. Please understand that. There’s still so much of the year ahead of us.’
She threw herself back on the bed and let out a frustrated moan. ‘How do you say “vibrator” in Italian?Vibratore?Vibratrice? Is it masculine or feminine?’
‘Masculine.’
‘Of course it bloody is.’
